Alone
by cjennxx
Summary: She was always alone. But her aloneness was serene. She always seemed so content. He sought to understand why.


He watched as she got out her lunch and opened her book. She began to eat while reading, one hand propping the book open. She was in the same place she always ate her lunch at – the forest clearing behind the Psychology building. Rarely did people ever wander back there, and that is why, he suspected, she chose that specific location.

He began observing her after he noticed her one day. He was walking towards his weekly seminar class in the Psychology building when he glanced out the window and noticed her in the clearing: reading a book, with her lunch and backpack splayed out beside her. After that, his eyes followed her whenever they managed to locate her. He found out that she was actually in his Biology lecture. She sat in the corner towards the top of the auditorium. Alone. She was always alone, he noted. She rarely talked in class unless she was called upon; she ate alone at lunch at her signature location; she wasn't in any clubs or organisations; he never saw her at any parties.

Even though she was always alone, he noticed that she always seemed content and at peace. She always had a book and a notebook with her. She was always reading or writing in her notebook. He wondered how one could be so alone, but so content. He always thought that one needed others to be happy – needed something or someone other than oneself to be content.

One day he finally gathered the courage to approach her. He walked over the forest clearing, where she sat with her back against a tree trunk with a book in her hand. He sat down next to her. She looked up, startled, from her book. She locked eyes with him and he could clearly read the confusion in her eyes. "Hi. Can I help you?" she asked after a moment of silence, seeing that he had indeed meant to sit down next to her, and did not intend to leave anytime soon. He looked at her. Her eyes never broke the contact with his. So, she wasn't shy or socially anxious, he thought. That ruled out one of his hypothetical reasons for her aloneness.

"I was curious…" he began, his gaze never leaving hers. She nodded at him to continue, the book now in her lap with a finger bookmarking the page. "Why do you look so happy even though you're all alone?" he decided to just ask bluntly and honestly. She looked stunned for a moment before studying him curiously. "Well…" she began, turning to gaze at the sky. "I've always been alone. I've always liked books and the written word more than real people. Most people don't want to talk to the quiet girl and they don't take the time to get to me when they do decide to talk to me. They just drift away after a while. If that's the way it is, that's fine with me. I'll stick with my books and words. It's like I live in my own bubble," she explained to him, in a soft voice.

He nodded, absorbing her words. "Don't you get lonely, though?" he asked, genuinely curious. She gave him a gentle smile, seeming to understand the reasoning behind his question. "Perhaps I do at times – crave human contact—but I've been alone for so long that I can't tell anymore. Besides, I believe life is too short to worry about silly things like social status and worldly affairs. I just want to read and write in peace, like I've always done," she told him quietly after a pause, seeming lost in thought. Her answer enraptured the boy even further. What did she mean by that statement? Was she content just living her life alone so long as she could read and write? Everyone he knew, himself included, was so caught up in their fast-paced lives, trying to establish the best social networks in order to maintain their social status, find a lover, and get a high-salary job after college. "But…don't you need to network? That's the only way you'll get a job. And to do that, you have to put yourself out there…?" he questioned her, thoughts racing through his mind a mile a minute. She just looked at him and gave him that gentle smile again. The mysterious smile that seemed to imply that she knew the answer to one of life's well-kept secrets, one that few people knew even existed.

"That's the thing," she told him patiently. "People network and do all that because they want a _high-salary_ job, not just a job. They want to make a lot of money to buy a large house, a fancy car, and other fancy items. They believe that that is the only way to be happy. However, I'm content with my life as it is now. I have a warm place that I called home, I have a loving family, I have a healthy body, and I have my books and notebooks and my imagination. I am happy, right this moment. I don't need fancy things. I just want a simple life where I can live peacefully and continue doing what I love. I don't need a large salary. I don't need social status or wealth. If I'm known as the quiet girl because I don't network or go to parties, so be it. But I don't want to be involved in society's rat-race for 'success'. As long as I have a stable job that pays the rent or mortgage, I'm set. A lover, you say? I believe that if we were meant to be, we'll meet each other someday when we're both ready. Call me lazy, call me a 'failure', but this is my life, and that's how I choose to live it," she told him in that quiet, but steady voice of hers. One that seemed to hold words of wisdom beyond her years. One that implied that she knew who she was and what she truly wanted in life.

The guy sat there stunned. He had been told all his life that the only way to live was to work hard and get a 'good' job, so he could buy everything he could ever want – everything society told him he needed to be happy and satisfied with his life. And now this girl next to him, who was barely considered an adult by society and who everybody believed to be a loser and social outcast, had just shattered his view on life. As he sat there pondering her words, she turned her gaze from the sky to him. She saw his internal turmoil and tried to ease it a bit. "Just because society and everybody says that's the way to live doesn't mean that it's for everybody. It's not for me, but it might be for some people. I think leading a simple life is good. I don't need money to be happy. If I find someone who shares my sentiments, then that would make my life even better, but for now this is enough." As she said that last bit of her explanation, she motioned towards the nature around them with her hands. Life and all its beauty, in and of itself, was enough for her.

Oddly enough, her words made sense to him. That's why, he realised, she always seemed so content with her life, even though, by society's standards, she led a 'boring' life where she will never amount to anything 'important'. But, she, more than anyone else, acknowledged and understood the transience of life – realised that there's more to life than material items and living up to others' expectations. He was absolutely mind-blown by her words. She didn't live to be happy; she was happy _because_ she lived. Most people saw life as a means towards happiness, but she saw living as happiness in itself.

During his internal musings, the girl had returned to the book on her lap, her lunch long forgotten besides her. He gazed at her for a while. "Thank you," he quietly whispered, before leaving her to her beloved books. "For freeing me from society's chains and allowing me to be free," he finished in his mind, as he walked away. A soft smile grazed the girl's lips as he walked, seeming to acknowledge his internal thought.


End file.
